


Stroke

by rexluscus



Series: Shiver [2]
Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Besotted Ben, Body Worship, Cunnilingus, F/M, Infinitely Sexually Curious Rey, Redeemed Ben, Touch-Starved, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2019-03-01 05:53:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13288356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rexluscus/pseuds/rexluscus
Summary: Rey gets her turn.





	Stroke

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to "Shiver." Thanks to Aetole for beta-reading!
> 
> Again, we're in the future, don't worry how we got there.
> 
> This series is literally the most sex and body-positive thing I've ever written. Maybe I'm growing as a person.

The next night, Rey drags Ben into her berth and leans back against the door. "Okay, it's my turn now."

"For—" Ben blinks.

"I want _you_ to touch me all over this time."

"Uh—" He stares at her in a daze.

She grins and jumps onto the bed.

He watches as she scrambles out of her clothes and gets eagerly into the position he had been in: flat on her back, arms straight and eyes closed. Unlike him, though, she's suppressing an excited smile as she waits for him to begin.

Ben sits next to her hip and folds his arms. He feels a familiar pressure to make this _good_ , make it fancy somehow—don't some people use ice? But all he can think is _touch her now._ She doesn't seem to expect anything in particular. He just stares at her skinny, toned little body—at her sharp tan lines, her exuberant triangle of pubic hair, her breasts lying flat on her rib cage, her serene, dimpled face, looking as if she's about to open a gift box.

How can this willful, flinty girl who has suffered so much be so full of innocent pleasure in life? How can she be so free of shame?

She cracks her eyes open. "Would it be easier if you took your clothes off too?"

He decides it might. He pulls off everything but his underwear, not eager to poke her repeatedly with his hardening dick as he crawls all over her.

He works up the nerve to get on his hands and knees so his arms are braced near her shoulders. "Can I kiss too?" he asks. "When I touch, I mean."

She nods vigorously. "Please do!"

He avoids her earnest face and focuses on her sharp collar bone, the well-defined knob where it connects to her shoulder blade, and her firm, striated deltoid. She doesn't have an unnecessary ounce of flesh on her. Climbing around the insides of Star Destroyers has toned her muscles to perfect hardness, making her veins stand out on her forearms and triceps.

"Are you going to start any time soon?" she asks.

He runs his fingertips lightly from her neck to the insides of her arms, where her skin is softer and less sun-damaged. She shivers a little and grins. He tickles the crook of her elbow, presses curiously on the spongey vein there, then kisses it.

"I didn't realize I'd be so sensitive there," she says with wonder.

That surprised him too when she discovered this place on him. Who knew their bodies had all these…other spots? Rey knows less about sex than anybody, but because of that she somehow knows more. She doesn't make any assumptions. No part of it puts her off.

He's studiously delaying a direct look at her breasts, perhaps out of some self-deprivation impulse, so he turns to them next. He always has a moment of apprehension when he's about to touch a girl's breasts, afraid she'll change her mind, afraid she'll look at him with suspicion and push him away. He hates nothing more than being pushed away. It makes him unreasonably angry, and he's afraid of himself when he gets that angry. Rey might be the first girl he both trusts and trusts himself around. Not only is she as strong as he is, but something about her calms him down. He's never afraid around her, so his fear never has a chance to turn into anger.

His hands hover as he plans his approach. Should he just grab them, like a barbarian? He wants to. They're not as small as he thought; she just wraps them up tightly under her clothes. Her nipples are dark pink, almost brown, and her breasts are very pale next to her tanned arms and chest. Above their teardrop shape, his hands look clumsy and enormous. He doesn't know where to start.

He decides to take them between thumb and fingers, as if he's going to squeeze them, but instead pulls lightly up the sides so that his fingertips meet at their peak.

Rey makes a soft moaning sigh. Something tender opens in his chest, like a plant in the sun.

"That feels so much nicer when you do it," she says.

His dick nudges the inside of his briefs. "You've done this to yourself?"

"Well, yeah. What else was I supposed to do?"

"Did you also touch your"—he fortifies himself for the crude teenage word that's the only word he has for it—"you know, your pussy?"

"All the time. There wasn't much to do on Jakku once you'd finished your work for the day."

Despite the growing pressure in his briefs, this worries him. He's not sure his skills will match what she can do on her own.

"Can you squeeze them a little harder?"

That, he can do.

He engulfs them in his hands, rubbing his calloused palms against her tight little nipples. She smiles and shivers with uninhibited pleasure and arches her back to press them more firmly into his grip.

"Your hands are so big," she sighs. "I've been staring at them for weeks."

"I didn't know what I was allowed to touch," he admits.

"Well, now you know: literally anything."

He lets her breasts go and bends to kiss one, placing his mouth on its underside and then kissing in a spiral toward her nipple. His kisses grow wetter as he goes, until he's leaving a wide trail of saliva.

"Oh," she says, "the air feels cold on it after you do that."

He pauses. "Is that good?"

"Yes!"

He's starting to feel echoes of what she feels, which always seems to happen the more they touch skin to skin. Once, through the Force bond, it had gone the other way: they had _seen_ each other, sensed each other's spirits, and reached across the galaxy to touch. For years, he has been turned so inward, so caught up in the chaos of his mind and of Snoke's poisonous presence there, that he has forgotten that the Force is _physical_ —spirit expressing itself through living bodies. Rey seems to have understood that from the beginning. She, of course, had reached out to him first.

Her physical desire for him doesn't make him feel like a dead thing. It fills him with prickling, thrilling life.

He decides it's high time to see how she likes having her nipples sucked.

Pulling one into his mouth, he lets his tongue explore the puckered area around it, then prods at the springy flesh of the nipple itself. The sound she makes is urgent and high. Encouraged, he increases his suction and pulls his head up so that her breast lifts with his mouth, turning from a teardrop to a roundish cone. He wraps his hand around it while he sucks, kneading it out of its natural shape, popping his lips off her nipple and then drawing it back in over and over.

"Uhn…oh stars!" She laughs breathlessly. "Do the other one so they match!"

He obliges, still running his thumb over her nipple while he sucks on the other. She moans and squirms so hard she almost pulls out of his grip.

"Ben—Ben—I think I need—"

He drops her nipple. "What?"

"Between my legs—it feels like—I need you to—"

His stomach lurches even as his dick throbs. He'd planned on working up to that. Does he even remember what to do? He's mostly used his fingers on girls and one time his mouth, which wasn't a resounding success. But he has worked Rey up just by playing with her breasts, so he might not need much skill. Just feeling something warm and wet moving around down there certainly does it for _him._

He can't bring himself to stampede down to it, though. He drags his fingertips over her ribs first, to see if he can pay her back for the tickling she gave him, and she twitches and smiles but otherwise seems immune. That figures. He turns his attention to her flat belly, its muscles gently defined, again from a lifetime of hard physical effort. She told him about the hundred-foot ropes with which she would climb a ship's walls and then belay back down to the desert floor. No exercises, no training, just scrambling around for her life. He kisses every inch of her belly and circles it until he can dip his tongue into her navel.

She giggles. "That feels funny. Like someone poking your ear."

"Sorry." He kisses lower. "Is this better?"

"Yesss." Her hands thread into his hair and idly scratch his scalp as she urges his head down. He can smell her now, the scent of her pussy infusing her pubic hair, and he pushes his nose into it and inhales.

"Do you actually like that?" she asks—curious, not ashamed.

"Yes," he chokes out.

"I can feel you breathing on me. It's driving me crazy."

He nudges her thighs apart with the backs of his hands. Her scent gets stronger and he can see her pussy lips now, tightly closed but glistening at the seam. He loses his mind a little. No longer thinking, he just wants to _see,_ to taste, to feel. He pulls the tender, wrinkled lips apart with his thumbs and gazes, besotted, at the smooth, glistening insides, at the place where her body opens out and then turns in on itself. He can't remember if he imagined this moment already—certainly not in such detail. No imagining could prepare him for this. Probably he just thought about putting his dick in her and pumping away like a horny idiot, just getting what _he_ wanted.

That was how they'd started: him tearing into her and her tearing back, first in self-defense and then with growing confidence in her power. _He_ had instigated that change in her and he can't entirely regret it. But even at the time, despite all his old impulses and habits, something in him had wanted to stop, to pull back from _inside_ her and just look at that face taking such a specific, magical shape in his mind—her presence no longer just one among many but unique, without substitute. Even as they fought—which was all he knew how to do then—he'd wanted to touch her, not for his own gratification but just to make contact, to caress. And eventually, she'd decided she wanted that too. He still can't quite believe it.

Now they're in bed together, a place that has always felt a little violent to him, a place of failed contact that is worse than aloneness, and they're doing things that ought to strike him as filthily carnal. Instead, her presence infuses him from every inch of her body.

Just from the sensation of his thumbs spreading her open, from the cool air touching her hot insides, she moans sharply and her groin muscles contract, so that he has to brace her thighs open with his wrists. Little pulses run through her pussy every time he moves his fingers, contractions that open and close her deep inside where his fingers and tongue want to go. He lets his thumbs slide in, penetrating and widening, then he pushes his tongue between them to get at the source of the liquid that has started to trickle out. The warm yeasty taste of her pussy gives way until he tastes nothing at all, just the texture of fluid on his tongue.

"Do you like this?" he asks, voice somewhat muffled. "Me putting my tongue here?"

"That's the stupidest question I've ever heard," she gasps.

He allows himself a satisfied smile. Conveniently, the location of his tongue positions his nose to rub against her clit. It's a prominent nose, of course, and at first it prevents him from getting as deep as he'd like, but if he squishes its tip as flat as it will go, he can roll it over her clit so the little thing snaps from side to side, which makes her twitch harder each time he does it. It might be _too_ much, though, so he withdraws his tongue and asks, "Does that feel good?"

"If you stop, I will tear you limb from limb," she murmurs in a daze.

He dives back in. This time he runs his tongue all the way up from her neat little asshole to the entrance of her pussy, then wiggles his tongue shallowly in that well of fluid before moving up to the swollen pink head of her clit. That makes her jerk and make a sound of discomfort, so he licks up and down between the folds of her lips instead, exploring those apparently less sensitive regions, getting everything as wet with his saliva as he can. When the spirit moves him, he thrusts a finger inside, into the soft molten space that grasps and yields at the same time, drawing him as deep as he wants to go.

"Ohh," Rey groans at this development. "Oh sweet heavens, keep _doing_ that. And—move it around a little more!"

"What feels best?" he asks.

"I don't know! Just— _try_ something!"

He puts in another finger, which elicits an even longer moan, then rotates his hand to see which angle she likes best. He starts with his knuckles up and his fingers curling toward her tailbone, which makes her grunt but not with exactly with pleasure. He tries a few more angles before turning his palm up, and when he moves in and out with his fingers curled, she shrieks and goes rigid, her inner muscles sucking his fingers deeper.

"There!" she pants. "More pressure—curl your fingers more."

He obliges, and his fingertips scrape over a divot in her inner walls. That's the spot she likes most, and he rubs it and rubs it until she cries out, "Too much!"

It's so strange—he can tell when he does something she doesn't like as much, but he never feels _wrong._ She just nudges him toward what she likes better without a hint of resentment.

He straightens his fingers, but keeps pushing them lazily in and out, unwilling to put an end to this incredible sensation.

"Okay now touch the thing on the top," she orders. "That—bit you were shoving your nose into."

"Your clit," he supplies.

"Whatever. Just touch it. Or—lick it, whatever you want."

He puts the slippery pads of his fingers on the loose skin over her clit this time. It works like his foreskin, rubbing over the tender pink head without him touching it directly. The lubrication makes his fingers slip all over, rolling the hidden shaft back and forth. Her moans turn softer, deeper, more serene, even as her body starts to tense up. He looks ather closed eyes and dreamy smile, then back down at her pussy opening and closing in a slow rhythm as her thighs start to shake. He ventures his tongue back out to lick at the underside of her bare clit, gently abrading its exquisitely smooth surface with the bumps of his tongue, and all at once she starts to breathe harder and faster and make high, urgent sounds. His eyes widen as her pussy clenches hard in short, rapid pulses and she exhales every breath as a long, sighing moan. Suddenly his mouth and chin get very wet.

Her moan trails off into incredulous laughter. "It's never felt anything like that before," she says in amazement. "Your mouth—it's so hot and so—slimy—oh hells, I don't mean that in a bad way!" She laughs again. "I can't explain why it feels so good."

As long as she wants him, he doesn't care if she thinks he's slimy. He can't resist nuzzling his whole face into her pussy, now swollen and open and pink and so wet. He kisses it as if it were a mouth, with passionate affection for it and for her. In his whole life, he has never felt so accomplished, so happy, so purely in touch with another being. The Force pours her pleasure into his, into a common stream—or perhaps this is just how normal people feel whenever they make love. _This_ must simply be how the Force feels to everybody.

Afterward, he rests his head on her sweaty chest and lets her comb his hair behind his ear until she complains how heavy he is and shoves him off. Undaunted, he slides down her body and returns to his interrupted explorations, kissing and stroking his way down her legs with their silky hair, to the ticklish insides of her knees and the papery skin of her ankles, over the boney arch of her feet. She shrieks when he runs a finger over her sole, then she wraps her shins around his neck and drags him back up to her like a monkey. She flips him over and sits on his belly while he runs his hands up and down her thighs, standing the hairs on end and then smoothing them back down as she smears fluid all over the skin below his navel.

When her ass bumps up against his crotch, she turns around in surprise. "Your pants are all wet! Did you come?"

Apparently he did. He's not sure when—it must have been during that moment when their pleasures merged and he hadn't known or cared if he was feeling his or hers.

"Huh," she says and turns back, apparently indifferent to the incredible rareness of this event, only interested in what's happening now. "Next time you'll put it inside me," she declares.

"Gladly," he murmurs, still enjoying the texture of her thighs.

"Did you like me? I mean, did you like touching me?"

He laughs. "What do you think?"

She bounces on his belly. "I think you did," she says with a secret smile. "Which is ideal, because we're going to do that again. A lot."

**Author's Note:**

> Look, I know Ben is a little too good at this on his first real try. But the moral of this story is, if you _like_ eating pussy, you'll do it well.
> 
> Find me on [tumblr!](http://rex-luscus.tumblr.com)


End file.
